


A Story Long Lost

by LieutenantWubs



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Minor Character Death, Post-Game, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Trauma, but everyone is a minor in natures perspective, somewhat descriptive images of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 21:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5065753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieutenantWubs/pseuds/LieutenantWubs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tears fall, teeth bite, and graves settle. She saw the winter flower bloom with potential long ago, and now she sees it under light in all of its sickening brilliance. For now, time will heal the wounds, but eventually it will swallow all that had transpired, leaving nothing left for the travelers who wander through the mountain.</p><p>She is unlike those travelers. For she had seen it before it began, had bared witness to the events as it unfurled, and now she plays the role of scribe as the dust settles and snow blows away for new beginnings. That mountain will forever hold the story deep within its core, but light shall never reach its scattered words, leaving the story forgotten to those not present. A shared secret behind closed doors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Story Long Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Welp it's done and im pretty happy with it~ Hope you enjoy!

Coming up from warmer lands, she saw all that had been lost. Not even the smell of pine could cover that distinct musk that lingered in the air, that burned nostrils, that haunted millions, a musk that she knew so well: Death. From that smoldering wasteland, which she witnessed long ago as a flourishing playground, she saw dreams that now rested in ruin. This scene before her began the story.

A once grand residence, promising days of enjoyment and filled with lives worth success, lay broken in a winter wonderland so picturesque that she couldn’t help but stare in awe. The fire that had danced through its halls from dawn until dusk, its core filled with the souls of the damned, left only the charred remains of a golden era outlined in blood. Pure snow couldn’t even hide the vast fields of gray ash littering that plagued mountain. A picture painted in a color scheme of carnage. Polished wood, smudged down into a smokey black puddle, rested in a blanket of white, disturbing winter’s slumber when it had fallen. Beneath it, foot prints of survivors: Covered.

Inside was no better, as she could see. Tarps were scattered, police tape: Ripped. A way to cover the tragedy. Stairs: Broken. Windows: Smashed. A gas line protruding from the fireplace. That wicked fire-starter, both a savior and murderer. Dust rose up and ran as she passed by, retreating down into the basement in fashioned waves. The house groaned deep from within, unsettled by its uninvited guest. Venturing further into that ruined ghost, a picture of smiles rested amongst the destruction; Now a golden brown, roasted by flames, it played the part of a window into the past; A window now boarded up by those who had lost the ability to see anything but those white gleaming orbs, hiding behind those frostbitten panes. [Sam closed the box and sealed it with tape. A small, inconspicuous thing, yet a dreadful reminder to its owner of the times passed. She couldn’t bare to see those memories from that chapter of her life. Its pages; Torn. Scattered on top the mountain: Rotting.]

An unexpected guide swept in by her side, taking and leading her back out into the snow. Now engulfed in the setting sun’s brilliant rays, the ground became a sea of gold, washing over her with all of its beauty. Beside her, the wind carried her onward, carried her to reveal the rest of the story that lay beneath the surface. [Cries from below bellowed out from cracks that tore through the mountain; Screams, wails, anguished calls for something,  _someone_ , to come find it. To save it from its hell on Earth. As days turned to nights, no one answered that pleading voice as it turned to growls. From his destruction, it came alive.]

A dinky shed lay before her. Inside, electrical equipment of which she could not tell apart.The only thing she could see was a lone camera, resting upon a desk; Waiting, watching. Inside it, evidence of a choice to be made, a choice that was made. Across from her, a gruesome scene was set for an audience. Wind opened that world to her, revealing a new chapter of the story that she studied and read with curious disgust. Indeed, a choice was made, but the outcome? Manipulated. A board, splattered and ripped with red was impaled by a saw, hardened and rusted by blood that stained its jagged edges. The wind enveloped her, bringing solace to her raging mind. Upon the saw lay police tape, embracing that haunted tool like a mother would a child. [Melinda was hospitalized after the news of her son, later found on the snow-covered ground at the foot of her children’s graves. Frostbitten and teary eyed, she never recovered.]

A fallen tree, decaying under the weight of nature’s force, made way for a path once more. Allowing shelter from harsh winds, it stood through time as a guardian. She traversed that trail up to a small cabin, who had fallen victim to neglect, a shadow of its former self. Floor boards creaked in greeting, letting its visitors in through the broken window on the door. [Mike boarded up the apartment windows in a fit of paranoia, fueled by the anguished cries that left Jess’s mouth.]

The wind screamed next to her as it cut across the broken shards of bloody glass. Curtains reached out to provide comfort, but only touched air. Dust settled in the vacant home of a rifle, blurring it from existence; A piece to the puzzle that she realized would never be found again. Matches that provided warmth long ago, now surrendered to the cold, held down by snow that had snuck in many moons before. She let the wind guide her out of the cabin; Followed it through the snowy hellscape. It whistled to her, speaking of the sounds that haunted the mountain top. Trees reached out for her, ready to trap her in their grasp, but the wind held on. [Matt broke up with Emily and went to college in the city. Even sports were unable to move him near the treelines. Only the bustle of downtown New York could keep his mind off of what lurked within nature’s core.]

She was not built to stand rigid freezing conditions for so long, but still the wind carried her down into the damp mines. Water dripped from high above. Silence broken by its gentle song. An old water mill refused to budge, its mechanisms cracked and frozen, drowning in darkness. Within that murky labyrinth she could feel herself being drawn further in. She could sense something calling to her, a life, a soul: Damaged and lost. Across the water was a cave that beckoned in uneasy stillness, and she found herself crossing those icy depths to her caller. The wind whispered and spoke of the tragedy waiting beyond the threshold , but still she pushed toward that broken signal, leaving the wind back at the entrance. A straight pathway laid before her, and with horror, she noticed the bodies that hung above. Strung up like laundry, they hardly swayed. Blood laid in pools beneath them. Pieces of them: Scattered. All at once she was ready to leave, but a body caught her eye. Slumped against the wall rested a boy, knees to his chest, head leaning back, and gun in hand. A hole could be seen on both sides of his skull. A minuscule dot, compared to the massive crater-like gap only opposite of it. Oozing with blood, darkened to a deep red, it stained his features. Half of his face: Demonic. While the other half remained pure. A single white and glossy orb stared up at her, like a predator would to prey; A stark contrast to it’s darker twin, which stared at nothing: Unfocused. His mouth was slightly opened, a breath and cry, forgotten on those frozen lips. [Josh screamed as his bones pushed through his skin, as flesh ran down his throat, as his vision blurred with red. He couldn’t see, but he could feel. The gun on the rescuers belt was a heavy weight both in hand and heart. A way to escape. A way to be free. A way to be happy. A ticket out of Hell.

“Beth, Han, I’ll never leave you again.”]

With a heavy heart, she left those interweaving caverns. Greeted by crisp air and gentle snowflakes, she welcomed the outside world. This mountain, built on taken lands, impure actions, and lost lives, still managed to stand high above the clouds in all of its beauty. She had forgotten the sensation that came to her when reading stories such as this. Every character, a key. Every choice, a path. Some prevailed, [Emily went on to a prestigious college for fashion design, excelling in all her classes. If no one noticed her obsession with using cotton in her designs, a highly flammable material, well, she was glad they didn’t.] some take time to heal, [Chris and Ashley decided to get an apartment together. Nights became a battle for them both, but in each other’s arms, they realized that those battles became more bearable.] and some never make it. [Bob was found dead in his office after his wife lost herself in depression. In his hand holding the gun he used, paramedics found a note that simply said,

“I always told my kids that I would never leave them alone. I don’t intend to break a promise.”]

As the moon began to rise and shed a gentle light across the snow, she new that it was time for her to leave. Their story may be forgotten by many one day, but they will forever live on in her, as many others do. She watched that grand residence once more, letting the story play across her mind like a movie. The Washingtons were officially gone. Their only imprint on this world lasting in the memory of those they had touched, for nature had begun to erase their history from its books. The wind would never miss them, and neither would this mountain. All that was taken would be reclaimed again by its rightful owners, showing no mercy for the remnants of the story. She turned away as the last few pillars holding the house up began to crumble, finally falling to nature’s will. Snow quickly made a home upon the ruins, wanting nothing but the comfort of silence and stillness. The wind escorted her down the mountain, back towards warmer lands, away from the frosty wasteland that showed no remorse As the moon continued to shine high above, illuminating her pitch black wings, she knew that nature would close the book for her. She knew that this story was long lost. Never to be found again.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I didn't mention the sanitarium or whatever where Mike had gone but I wanted to touch the places that I really felt were important. I also wanted this to be longer but auydvqwudcv
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING! Helpful criticism is always welcomed and appreciated as are your comments or opinions on the story! I love to hear from you guys~


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